


Night Shift

by spaghettideviant



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, Bottom Gavin Reed, M/M, Struggling Writer RK900, Top Upgraded Connor | RK900, barista gavin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 13:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17447669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaghettideviant/pseuds/spaghettideviant
Summary: Gavin Reed co-owns an ethical vegan coffee shop in Detroit alongside his best friend. A stranger comes in to buy a cold brew.





	Night Shift

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: There's some smut
> 
> Also, shoutout to everyone on twitter that hyped me up to write this. I had a lot of fun doing it. Here's the link if you would like to read the threads this fic is based on:  
> https://twitter.com/i/moments/1084958698106175489
> 
> that, and the song they listen to together:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0WDZdT04ls4
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Steam rises as foam combines with black coffee, floating upwards into the air as Gavin makes the beverage with ease. Step by step, recreating the drink from memory. Dark roast, two shots of espresso, topped with regular foam and a sprinkle of cinnamon. Reaching for a spoon, Gavin carefully lays the cinnamon on top in the shape of a flower, tongue darting out to rest on his upper lip in concentration. Smiling at his creation, Gavin rounds the counter, walking the drink over to the customer, leaned over their phone next to the window.

Back behind the counter, Tina wipes down the nozzles of the espresso machine, humming to herself and swinging her hips. Gavin walks up behind her to adjust her apron. It’s become askew. She sticks her tongue out, continues working. Gavin smiles.

This is a good day for them. Some but not too many customers, good to keep them from getting overwhelmed. Gavin watches Tina as she works, continuing to smile and wonder, like always, what’s going on in her head that makes her so happy. Gavin has known Tina since they were in kindergarten, and still doesn’t understand how she’s so happy all the time. Sure, the slow day is good for them, but Gavin still isn’t chipper enough to sing like she is.

Turning, he gazes out at the small shop. From the bookshelves on the back wall to the mismatched tables and chairs. The winding staircase leading up to the loft, the lush couches perched on top of it. He nods. He loves this place.

Gavin and Tina started drinking coffee in middle school, and haven’t stopped since. College was difficult for both of them, Gavin’s family went through some shit, Tina was bad at math. They dropped it to open this place. And, still, they run it smoothly. Just the two of them, making good coffee for the people who need it. Gavin runs his hand down his apron, grazing over the buttons and pins, tapping at his handwritten name tag. Everything in the shop is mismatched, juxtaposed. A little hectic, but, then again, so are Gavin and Tina.

The bell on the door rings, a customer steps over the threshold. Gavin moves to the register, takes his order. An almond milk mocha latte with one shot of espresso, to go. Gavin scribbles the name onto the biodegradable cup, and gets to work.

He’s not young anymore. Thirty-six. But, despite this, his passion for coffee never fades. Everyday he looks forward to the smell of the stuff, the steam hitting his face, the jittery feeling that lingers as he watches someone take their first sip of coffee. That little sip, testing out the heat, the little ‘ah’ that escapes their lips. Gavin makes  _ good _ coffee, he knows it. He hands the drink to the customer, a smile on his face. The guy smiles back, tells Gavin to have a good day.

Gavin is shifting the books stacked on the counter as Tina elbows him in the side. “What?” He laughs, not angry in the slightest. The pain in his ribs aside, Tina is his best friend.

“He was totally checking you out,” Tina says, her happy smile morphing into a smirk.

Gavin’s face heats, but he shakes his head. “What? No, he wasn’t.” Tina, still smirking, begins to berate Gavin about having more faith. He’s going to be single forever if he doesn’t put himself out there. Die alone, surrounded only by cats and empty coffee cups.

She might be right, but Gavin is  _ not _ about to flirt with anyone, especially not at work. Dating is difficult for him. In college, he came out to his family, his brother. They resented him for it. Told him not to come home. Tina loves him, of that Gavin’s sure, but he doesn’t trust other people. Being gay isn’t something he announces to the world, in fear of being rejected or hurt again. He’s been with a few people, though. Only a few, connected with through a dating app. Short flings, nothing serious. 

On the app, Gavin could be absolutely sure when someone else was gay, because their profile would state it. In person, it’s not that easy. There’s not really any tell, and Gavin doesn’t want to flirt with a man who doesn’t like men, that would just be embarrassing. Eventually, Tina leaves him alone, retreating into the stock room to answer a call from her girlfriend.

How is it so easy for Tina? Gavin has no clue. She met her girlfriend here, made her coffee. So, maybe she’s right about flirting with people at work, but Gavin doesn’t want to risk it. It’s too dangerous. 

In the afternoon, Gavin gets tired. 

He usually does, later in the day. As much as he loves coffee, it doesn’t do much for him anymore. He gets sluggish, sloppier with his work. After the third time spilling soy milk on the counter and cursing himself for it, he hears the bell on the shop door, loud enough to signal a new customer. “Welcome in,” He calls, not looking up from the spill as he cleans. Tina pushes him towards the register, and before he can ask her why she won’t just take the order, he sees the customer. God damn her, for knowing exactly what type of guy Gavin is into.

This guy, tall, lanky, pale, dressed in all black and covered with chains. Piercings glitter in both of his ears and on his face, his nose and his eyebrow. His hair is dark, perfectly quaffed to one side, but his eyes are light, lined with dark eyeliner. They’re blue. 

Slowly, Gavin approaches the counter, ignoring Tina’s little cheer from behind him. He lets his eyes fall over the moles scattered on the other’s face. “Uh, hey. What can I get for you?”

Unlike other new customers, that spend a few minutes perusing the chalkboard wall behind the counter, asking what makes the coffee ethical or what the word vegan entails, the customer orders nonchalantly. Eyes holding unwavering contact with Gavin’s, shoulders squared evenly. “Cold brew. Two pumps of white mocha and cream.” He punctuates his order with a sigh, and Gavin nods slowly.

After punching the order into the register, and accepting his cash and handing him the change, Gavin grabs one of the biodegradable cups. He pulls at the sharpie marker hanging from a chain attached to his apron. “Can I get a name?”

“Niles.” 

Gavin nods, scribbles it quickly, sets to work making the drink. It’s later in the day, so Gavin likes to use as many of the cups people can keep or throw away, not wanting to do anymore dishes. Gavin watches the guy while making his coffee, looking through the bookshelves, setting his bag down on the table of a small booth next to the stairs, pulling his phone out, sending a text. 

Tina, naturally, notices Gavin watching him, and has to take over making the drink when Gavin misses the cup and pours cold brew directly onto the floor. She finishes, shoves it into Gavin’s hands, then moves to clean up the mess. He thanks her, then calls out for the customer. “Miles?”

_ Niles  _ turns, his inexpressive face morphing as he frowns. He’s at the counter in a few seconds, taking the drink without thanking Gavin and moving to slump into the booth. He pops in some earbuds, pulls a laptop from his bag.

Gavin can’t help himself when he whispers “Asshole,” under his breath.

“What?” Tina snorts. “He’s cute.”

“He’s rude. He didn’t thank me.”

Tina wrings the mop in her hands, leaning against it to stare out at Niles from across the room. “Gav, you didn’t even make the coffee.”

“I know, but still.” Gavin yawns, then moves to make a little shot of espresso. Just something to hold him over until they close. “It’s 2019. Everyone should be nice by now.”

Shaking her head, Tina leans the mop against the counter. “It’s pretty rare to meet someone nice. Everyone is always too full of themselves or too focused on their phones to actually be kind. Don’t worry too much about it.” She glances at the clock. “I should probably go over the stock, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Gavin pulls a piece of chalk out of his apron pocket, leaning against the back counter and sketching a little smiley face under the list of deserts. Tina shakes her head, retreats into the storeroom. Gavin finds himself watching Niles consistently, observing him from afar as he starts his closing routine. Niles doesn’t say anything, or look up from his computer until the clock says seven. He stands, packs his things, throws his cup in the trash by the door. 

Gavin follows a second after the bell rings, flipping the sign hanging on the door to say ‘closed.’

The next day, at the same time, Niles returns. 

He orders the same drink, adjusts the strap of his laptop bag.

When Gavin goes to write his name down, Niles holds his hand out. Gavin blinks at him, confused. “N-I-L-E-S.” Gavin frowns. “Yesterday you wrote  _ Miles. _ My name is  _ Niles, _ with an ‘N.’”

“Jesus, sorry,” Gavin thnks back to the day before, how rude this guy was to him. “No need to get butt-hurt about it, it’s just coffee.”

The weight of him snapping at a customer hits Gavin like a truck, and he immediately starts apologizing. Years of customer service coming out a little too harshly. Niles sighs. “If it’s  _ just _ coffee, then just  _ make it, _ Gavin.” Gavin’s mouth flops open, and Niles sighs again, reaching out to flick Gavin’s name tag. 

Gavin frowns, makes the coffee. He ignores Tina when she starts asking Gavin what they talked about, how it went. If Gavin is considering hitting on him. Niles is already sitting down when Gavin finishes, earbuds in, typing quickly. Gavin doesn’t even bother to wait for a thank you, knowing that he won’t get one. He sets the coffee down and turns on his heel, retreating quickly back into the store room. Niles sighs heavily, and Gavin smirks. He wrote  _ Miles _ again.

That becomes the norm for few days. Niles coming in, reminding Gavin how to spell his name, writing a lot all at once and getting angry when Gavin spells his name wrong. Once, when Gavin brings him the coffee, he’s lacking his usual earbuds. Gavin’s steps falter, but he sets the coffee down anyway. When he turns, he hears Niles mutter something under his breath. “Thanks, Kevin.”

_ Kevin? _

Gavin turns back to Niles, head tilted. “Really? Kevin? That’s the best you could come up with?”

Niles’ little smirk fades as quickly as it appeared. “Well, I… It’s close to Gavin. Like Miles is to my name.”

“Ugh, no, Dude.” Gavin folds his arms, then glances down at Niles’ laptop. His eyes widen when he sees a particular sticker, but doesn’t lose his fire. “Kevin is two letters off. Doesn’t count.”

“It counts.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Niles huffs, throwing his arms up. “Whatever, Kevin. Thanks for the fucking coffee.”

Laughing, Gavin nods, part of him angry but most of him kind of pleased that Niles swallowed his pride and actually thanked him like a decent human being. He ends up staring at the door once Niles leaves, thinking about the sticker he noticed on the back of Niles’ laptop. Something he never saw because he always turned too quickly.

A tiny pride flag.

Niles is gay, too.

The next day, Gavin doesn’t look up when the bell rings, signalling Niles’ footsteps. After hours of Tina hyping him up, Gavin finally decides to turn on the charm, whatever that means. Maybe Niles calling him Kevin, feeding into this little game of getting names wrong is Niles’ version of flirting? Gavin has no way of knowing. What he does know, is what Niles is about to order. So, when the footsteps stop at the counter, he asks, “The usual?” without looking up from the register.

“Um, no. Sorry.”

The voice is a bit different. Airier. Gavin looks up, facing Niles. Only… he’s different. His dark makeup is gone, piercings removed. He’s wearing glasses and a periwinkle sweater. Gavin narrows his eyes, wondering what Niles is pulling. What game he’s playing now. “Let me get…” Niles trails off, brown eyes glancing up at the chalkboard.  _ Brown. Aren’t his eyes blue? Does he wear contacts?  _ “Let me get a cold brew with two pumps of  white mocha and cream…” He tilts his head, pursing his lips. “And a chamomile tea, please.” He looks over at the case filled with desserts, and his eyes light up. “Ooh! And a chocolate scone.”

Gavin, confused, puts the order in, takes his cash. He grabs a disposable cup for the cold brew, gets his marker. “Miles, right?” He wants to get back into their usual banter.

“Um, no,” Gavin blinks, brow furrowing. “Connor.”

_ Oh. _ Gavin could hit himself in the face. Of course this isn’t Niles. They just look… the same. He writes the name down, then watches as Connor retreats towards the stairs where Niles is already sitting, laptop open, typing in the same frantic manor.  _ Huh. _ Twins maybe. Gavin shakes his head, dismissing his own stupidity. He starts the kettle, puts the scone in the small heating oven, pours cold brew over a cup of ice. It’s only a little frustrating that he’ll have to do these dishes late in the day. Not for the cold brew, but for the scone’s plate, the teacup and saucer. He fans out some tea bags on the saucer, walks over to their table.

He sets the tea and scone in front of Connor, the cold brew next to Niles’ laptop. Niles doesn’t look up, of course, but Connor grins. “That smells amazing! Thank you so much.” Dimples dominate his cheeks. He’s goofy looking.  
“Uh, you’re welcome.”

Niles doesn’t say anything, and Gavin can’t help but laugh a little when Connor kicks Niles under the table. Niles curses, pulls out his reusable straw, then, “Whatever. Thanks, Kevin.”

Gavin turns, heading back towards the counter. He can hear Connor remove the paper from around a teabag. “Ni, his name tag said Gavin.”

“I know, Connor.”

Gavin stops in his tracks, pushing some chairs underneath some tables. He wants to hear this. A sugar packet being ripped open, poured over hot water. “But you said Kevin. That was rude.”

“I know, Connor.”

Another sugar packet. Some honey. “Well, you know how I feel about you being impolite, baby brother. Like I always say, kindness is no virtue, but-”

“But a common duty. I know that already, Connor. Shut up and drink your fucking tea. Let me work.”

Connor tsks, and Gavin glances over his shoulder to watch as Connor carefully takes one bite from his scone and sets it back on the plate. He pulls out his phone, balances his spoon in the tea, takes a picture of them from up high.

Despite how often Gavin makes excuses to go and listen to them talk, dusting bookshelves, sweeping the stairs, just leaning on the ledge of the loft to peer down at them, Tina eventually shoots Gavin a look. He settles on wandering into the store room to count napkins. The leather jacket resting on their shared desk draws his attention, and he fumbles around in the pockets for his pack of cigarettes. He pops his head back into the shop for a second. “Hey, Teen, I’m stepping out for a second.” She waves him off, continuing to scrub the inside of their blender.

Gavin steps out into the cold air, folding his arms and running his fingers along his biceps. He spends a few minutes trying to get warm, but gives up, sticking a cigarette between his teeth. He lights it, inhales deeply. Smoke burns his lungs, and he smiles to himself. Despite his consciousness for health and the importance of eating food that is good for you, Gavin can’t stop himself from this vice of his. He picked it up after coming out to his family. It was a tough time, and he needed something that would take the edge off. 

His gaze flicks upwards as he hears footsteps on the sidewalk, and he looks out from the alley behind the shop to the pavement. Niles and Connor walk past the alley without a second glance, and Gavin can’t stop his feet from walking towards the sidewalk and peering out after them. Connor is wearing Niles’ long coat to fight the cold, and it’s the first time Gavin has seen Niles without it. He’s wearing a tracksuit and sneakers, warm fabric clinging to his silhouette.

Slowly, Gavin lowers his gaze to Niles’ ass, and his face heats up.

_ Oh no. _

Inside, he sets his cigarettes back on the desk and flings open the door to the shop as Tina flips the door’s sign over. She startles, jumping and turning to face Gavin. “What are you-”

“I looked at his ass.”

Tina blinks. “What?”

Sighing, Gavin walks over towards her, wanting to keep his voice down despite the two of them being the only ones around. “Niles. You keep saying I should flirt with him, and I thought you were crazy. But, I saw him leaving and I looked at his ass, and… I’m panicking.”

“Was it nice?”

“Yes.”

Metal scrapes the floor as they begin to pick the chairs up and flip them over to rest over the tables. Tina thinks for a while, which is unlike her. Gavin gets a little nervous before she asks, “What happened to the whole ‘I can’t flirt with guys unless I know they’re gay’ thing?”

Gavin shrugs. “There’s a pride sticker on his laptop.”

Squealing, Tina bounces over towards him. “Holy shit, Gavin. You have to ask him out.”

“What?” Gavin shrinks away from her, shaking his head. “No. Are you crazy? I’ve never asked anyone out in person.”

“Ugh, why are you like this?” Tina pats his shoulder. “You’re going to be single forever if you don’t just put yourself out there.” Frowning, Gavin places another chair on top of a table, and Tina drops it. She’s never too pushy, and for that Gavin is grateful. But, that doesn’t stop her from making him take an early break the next day, handing him Niles’ cold brew. “Take fifteen. Go sit in that booth and talk to him.”

“Tina, no.” She spins his shoulders, pushing him away from the counter and patting his butt for good measure. Gavin sighs, straightens his apron, and walks the rest of the way to Niles’ booth. Niles has his earbuds in today, Connor nowhere in sight. Gavin sets down the coffee, and Niles doesn’t even look up. Gavin goes to walk away, but a menacing look from Tina makes him slide into the booth.

Raising an eyebrow, Niles takes out his left earbud.

“Hey,” Gavin sinks into the soft cushion of the booth. “Can I ask you something?” Niles doesn’t respond, only keeps looking at Gavin in mild confusion, hands frozen above his keyboard. The more Gavin watches his face, he thinks that his confusion might actually be disgust. Suddenly, Gavin wants to run back to the counter and hide, but, he knows that Tina would kick his ass. Gavin asks anyway. “Do you know how cold it is outside? It’s like, ten degrees  _ all the time. _ Why do you always drink cold coffee?”

Niles frowns, and his fingers begin to type again. Gavin is surprised when Niles holds his eye contact, blue eyes boring into him while slender fingers type quickly.  _ How is he doing that?  _ “I like cold brew.”

He keeps staring, so Gavin follows up. “But, it’s cold outside.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not outside, then, isn’t it?”

_ Oh. _ Gavin’s shoulders raise a little, reaching his ears. This… isn’t going well. He glances at Tina, who quickly pretends like she wasn’t listening, cleaning an old mug with a damp rag. “What are you writing?”

Niles continues typing, sighing deeply. “A contemporary piece about the terrors inside of Detroit’s poorly managed child services.” Gavin wonders if sitting here, asking him things about himself is going to make him resent Gavin. He tilts his head. “Why are you sitting here, Kevin?”

Gavin blinks. “I’m on break.”

“Well, I’m working. Please leave.”

Slowly, Niles’ eyes lower back to the screen of his laptop, but his fingers don’t change their pace. Gavin stays there, folding his arms. He watches Niles work, tracing the sharp lines of his features, admiring his cheekbones. Gavin thinks about what Tina said, about knowing for sure before flirting with someone, and Gavin’s anxiety spikes. He reaches out to poke the sticker. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?”

Gavin taps the sticker loudly, but Niles doesn’t look up from his screen. Sighing, Gavin asks out loud. “The, uh, the pride sticker here. Its rainbow.”

Niles sighs, stops typing. He leans down to adjust the laptop’s charger, then sits back up. Gavin watches him intently as he reaches out to take the cold brew in his hand. He presses the metal straw to his lips. “I’m gay.”

He drinks the coffee slowly, blue eyes locked on Gavin’s. Gavin wants to scream. Maybe part of him thought it wasn’t true. It’s almost relieving. “That’s…” Niles sets the coffee down, raising his eyebrow again. It’s a look that means  _ tread lightly. _ Gavin sputters. “I mean, uh, that’s… ugh.” Gavin shakes his head, shuts his eyes. He hates saying it out loud. “I am, too.”

“Hmm.” Niles returns to typing, peeling his gaze away from Gavin’s eyes. “Then you should have known what the sticker meant.”

_ Fuck. _

Gavin can’t do anything right, can he?

Tina clears her throat from across the room, gaining Gavin’s attention. She waves her hand, urging him to try something else. Gavin has basically given up at this point, but he tries anyway. “Uh, what are you listening to?”

Niles sighs, pausing his work for a moment to fetch his free earbud. For a second, Gavin thinks he’s going to put it back in and ignore Gavin but, he holds it out. Gesturing for Gavin to listen. Gavin’s heartbeat speeds up, and he takes it in his hand. The cord isn’t long, and Niles goes back to writing, so Gavin has to lean forward on his elbows. He pulls himself out of the booth to lean on top of the table. He puts the earbud in his ear.

The music is soft, sad. The woman singing has a deep, lovely voice. Gavin supposes he understands why Niles listens to it. It’s soft enough to write to, calm enough to let your brain concentrate. He tries to hear the lyrics and process what the woman is singing, but he can’t focus on anything other than how close he is to Niles. A few inches separate their faces, and Gavin, recklessly, inhales.

Niles smells… amazing.

Though it’s mostly cigarette smoke, there’s something else. Like old books or leather couches. Another inhale, stronger this time. Aftershave, pine scented shampoo, and the tiniest hint of mocha.  _ The coffee, _ Gavin figures. 

He doesn’t realize how long he stays there, lingering in Niles’ scent until the song changes, and he looks up to meet Niles’ gaze. He assumes Niles is trying to gauge his reaction, guess if Gavin liked that song or not. Neither speaks, and Niles’ hands still. Gavin can see his own reflection in Niles’ eyes. His eyes are sad. Something is bothering him, but Gavin can’t tell what. 

He wants to know. Wants to know Niles.

“Gavin,” Gavin startles, jerking his head back. Tina called for him, but as he looks back at Niles, the frown has returned, Niles’ hand cupping his right ear. It takes a second for Gavin to realize the music still playing in his ear. 

“Ah! I’m sorry!” He yanks the earbud out and sets it down on the table. “She scared me. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” Niles sighs, pulls the earbuds back and places them both in his ears. He begins writing again. Gavin goes back to the counter.

Tina asks him a million questions, but Gavin ignores her, spending the time until close organizing things in the back room. Sitting in the desk chair, head on the table. He pulled the earbud out of Niles’ ear. He hurt Niles. God damn-

“Hey,” A knock on the door leading back to the shop.

Gavin sits up. “Yeah?”

Tina pokes her head in, and Gavin wants to slam his face back down. “It’s seven. This guy’s asking for you.”

Standing and crossing towards her quickly, Gavin basically bursts into the shop, startling Niles, standing on the other side of the counter. Gavin stares at him, wondering why Niles asked for him. Is he going to tell Gavin off? Tell him that he’s never coming back here? 

Niles holds out his empty coffee cup, and Gavin takes it in his hands. “Same time tomorrow, Kevin.” 

Then he turns, leaves. Flips the sign on his way out. Gavin looks to Tina, opening and shutting his mouth. She glances down at the cup, and finally, Gavin looks down at his own scratchy handwriting, the word  _ Miles _ scribbled messily at the top.

Underneath it, surrounded by cartoon music notes, in the loopiest, most neat cursive Gavin has ever seen:  _ Lucy Dacus- Night Shift. _ He folds the cup a few times, takes it home with him. The song helps him fall asleep that night, echoing sad words throughout his skull. Without Niles so close, Gavin can focus on what she’s saying. 

_ “I feel no need to forgive so I might as well _

_ But let me kiss your lips so I know how it felt _

_ Pay for my coffee and leave before the sun goes down _

_ Walk for hours in the dark feeling all hell,” _

For the first time in what feels like forever, Gavin sleeps well. Awakes without bags under his eyes, without the need for coffee. The song still plays, and Gavin listens to it as he gets dressed, then forms an idea in his head. He drops down in front of his computer, and starts compiling songs. A short playlist, only an hour, of songs similar to this one. Jamming a USB drive into the computer’s port, he checks the time, pulls the USB back out and grabs his jacket on the way out the door.

He hands the USB to Niles when he accepts Niles’ loose change. Niles stares at it, then watches Gavin count out all of his dimes. Gavin can’t bring himself to be angry about his new method of payment. It’s fine. Niles miscounted, so Gavin slides a dime back to him. Niles frowns. “What is this, Kevin?” He tilts his head, motioning at the USB.

“I made you a writing playlist.” Gavin shrugs, leaning against the register. “I liked that song, so I went through my music and found some similar stuff for you. Mitski, Big Thief, Mallrat, Sales. Chill stuff with soft lady voices.” 

Niles raises an eyebrow at  _ soft lady voices, _ but shrugs, standing by the counter while Gavin makes his coffee. He turns it over several times until the coffee is in his grasp. He reaches into his bag, pulls out his metal straw, takes a long swig. “Thanks,” 

Gavin watches him as he types today, finding excuses to lean on the counter. His earbuds are in. Gavin hopes he’s listening to it. Niles is fairly stoic, usually, and Gavin has no way of telling what he’s thinking, if he likes the music or not. Tina starts to close at seven, and Niles packs up. His coffee is unfinished, so today, he takes it with him. Gavin straightens upright when Niles walks towards the counter instead of the exit. He holds up the USB in his free hand. “Portishead is on here.”

Heart pounding, Gavin nods. “Uh, yeah.”

“Dude, I fucking love Portishead. Thank you for this, I really needed it. Got a lot done today.” Niles holds out the USB to return to Gavin, but Gavin waves him off.

“Keep it. I don’t write.”

Niles… smiles.

He actually smiles.

Gavin has never seen a smile on his face. Smirks, yeah, sure, but a real, true smile? Not once. It’s… Blinking, Gavin starts to notice things about Niles that he didn’t focus on before. He has freckles, scattered across the bridge of his nose. Dark moles on his cheekbones, on his chin, his forehead, his neck. Small wrinkles on the corners of his eyes, one lock of hair falling against his pale skin. And now, smiling, dimples. Fucking dimples.

Niles isn’t just some hot guy drinking coffee in the afternoon.

Niles is beautiful.

And, suddenly, Gavin forgets how to speak. He should say something, his mouth flopping open, but no words come out. They almost do, and Gavin is afraid for a moment that he’s about to comment on Niles’ beauty, but Niles’ smile fades, returning back to the mild, half-interested line that usually rests on his face. “Well, thanks again, Gavin.” He turns, coffee and USB in hand, and exits the shop. Gavin’s eyes follow him through the window as he walks down the sidewalk.

It takes a few minutes for Gavin to realize, counting out the drawer as Tina stacks the chair in the loft. He bolts upright, dropping a stack of ones onto the floor, then quickly looks back out the window, as if Niles would still be there. Gavin immediately hates himself for not taking Tina’s advice. That was it. That was the moment. He should have asked Niles out.

Because Niles called him Gavin. Not Kevin.

_ Gavin. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “Hey, it’s me again. Call me back when you get this. I’m worried about you.” _

Keychains jingle as an old key is jammed into a rusty lock, turning sharply. The door has to be forced open, and nearly knocks over the stack of boxes behind the door. When it shuts, a little too forcefully, the top box falls over, and the plates inside shatter, spilling out onto the hardwood.

Niles sighs, and steps over the mess, maneuvering around the kitchen counter to get to the table and set his bag down, empty coffee cup close behind. He shrugs out of his coat, draping it over the wood chair and moving to the fridge. Opening it, he’s greeted with food. More food than there had been in the first few months, all of it good enough to eat. He scoffs, reaches past it to a half empty take out box containing three day old rice. Throwing the box in the microwave and setting it to one minute, he moves back to the table.

But, he immediately moves back to the microwave when it starts crackling, the inside popping. When he opens it, smoke billows out, and he coughs through it, waving his hand and batting it away. One minute was too much, apparently. Niles managed to fucking burn rice.  _ Fantastic. _ Still, his pride gets the best of him, not letting him eat the food in the fridge or the pantry.

Quickly, he reaches for his phone, checking to see if there’s any response.

None.

Sighing again, Niles moves back to the table, digging around in his coat pockets. There’s a few dimes left. He groans, and eyes the three doors on the opposite wall, hidden behind the small couch. Blue eyes hover on the last door. Connor’s room. There’s an envelope of cash in there, tucked away underneath Connor’s socks. It would be so painfully easy to dip into the stash and order a pizza.

But, like always, Niles’ pride stands in the way. If he won’t even use the groceries Connor buys, he’s definitely not going to just take some cash. Stomach growling, he slumps into the wooden chair, glaring at his unopened laptop bag. He needs to write, but just… he just wants to sleep. Most likely, he won’t be able to. Not if Connor won’t answer his fucking phone.

By some miraculous turn of events, Niles’ phone rings, and he scrambles to get it in his hands, dropping it face first onto the floor. He leans down, picks it up. The screen is cracked down the middle. Of course. And, it’s not even Connor calling him. Goddamn fucking-

“Hey, Markus,” Niles breathes into the receiver, trying to sound chipper and not starving and tired. If there’s one person he needs to impress, it’s Markus.

Bustle and commotion sound from the other end of the line, and Niles can guess that he’s outside. Probably just leaving the office. “Niles, hey,” Markus is chewing something, and Niles’ stomach growls. “Have you finished the piece on the child pageant?”

Child pageant. The concept makes Niles want to die. He sighs. “Not yet. I’ve been working on it all day, and I just got home, so I should probably-”

“Niles, I said I needed it tonight to send it to review.”

Niles frowns, slumping back into his chair. “Well, I know that, but I need to-”

“Look, Dude,” Markus finishes chewing, takes another bite. Must be a sandwich. Niles would kill for a sandwich. “The big boss is on my ass, for real this time. I can’t keep accepting your pieces late like this.” He coughs around his bite, and Niles starts picking at the chipped paint on the wood table. “You need to get it to me before you get here tomorrow.”

The laptop bag seems menacing now, beckoning to Niles to finish the stupid thing. “Tomorrow? I’ll have to work all night.”

“Oh, great, so you can do it.”

“Well, no, I-”

“No?” Markus swallows. “Are you telling me no right now?”

Niles pulls the phone away from his face to groan, then returns it to his ear. “It’s just… I’m not passionate about the child pageants.” He grits his teeth just saying it out loud. “If we could revisit the orphanage piece I’ve been working on, then maybe we could-”

“Niles, do I need to remind you the kinds of things we report on here at Jericho?” Niles doesn’t answer. He’s heard this several times before. “Jericho reporters bring out the best Detroit has to offer. We highlight the greatest events and juiciest stories. What we  _ do not do, _ is call out the child services system because of some personal vendetta harboured by a small-time journalist who can be easily  _ replaced.” _

A chunk of paint comes off between Niles’ fingers, and he lets it fall to the floor. “Right.”

Markus, taking another bite and crumpling up the wrapper of whatever he was eating, sniffs loudly. “Listen, you want to keep paying your bills? Write what we want you to write. Understand?”

Niles hardly makes enough to pay all of his bills, and he eyes the stack of envelopes with overdue stamps on them piling up by the front door. “I understand.”

“Good. I want it by eight tomorrow.” Niles’ mouth falls open to say something else, but the line goes dead. 

His stomach growls, but he continues to glare at his phone screen, opening his call log and mashing his finger against Connor’s name.  _ Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. _

_ “Hey, it’s Connor. I can’t come to the phone right now, so-” _

Hitting the end call button, Niles chucks his phone behind him, hearing it land on the couch before it falls to the floor. His stomach growls, and he smacks his face against the table. Where has Connor gone? It’s not like him to be late. Most days, Connor is here waiting when Niles gets home from the coffee shop, food ready to be eaten. Of course, Niles doesn’t eat what Connor makes with their influx of groceries, but it’s still worrisome when Connor isn’t waiting for him. His cheek presses against the cool wood, and he sighs heavily. Deep down, he knows where Connor is, though Connor will never admit it. It’s Niles’ fault, really, when he thinks about it. 

When they moved to Detroit, Amanda helped them pick out an apartment. Small, but big enough for the two of them. It’s closer to Connor’s school. It made sense to move  _ when _ they moved, but now it’s been three months and Niles is miserable. He spent all of the money he had saved on getting the actual apartment, and Amanda only spent her money towards Connor’s grad program. Psychology is expensive. Who would’ve thought?

But, Niles can’t pay for anything other than rent with the literal shit Jericho is paying him, so Connor switched to online classes so he could get a small job, personal assistant to the captain of the Detroit Police Department. Fancy, yet lacking in pay. Niles’ pride, as usual, refuses to let him call Amanda for help. He agreed to move out, not go crawling home to her when he realized that the adult world is tough. 

Niles’ whole paycheck is for the rent, and Connor’s is for all of the unpaid bills. Or, at least that  _ was _ the plan. Sometimes Niles breaks, has to get coffee or food. For the first two months, they could barely afford to keep their water on, and still can’t afford a heating system. And, their fridge had only ever contained the bare minimum, along with old takeout until recently.

Oh yes, Niles definitely knows where Connor is, the more he thinks about their once empty fridge, now full.

Connor, though he’ll never admit it, has a sugar daddy.

Or, at least, he’s fucking someone who gives him cash. Niles thinks back to the envelope in his room, and frowns against the table, feeling the wood heat up the longer he stays like that. If Niles is honest, he’s kind of hurt that Connor won’t tell him where he gets the money. He always waves Niles off, telling him not to worry about it or asking about what he’s writing. It’s bullshit, and Connor should just tell Niles what’s going on.

If he’s honest, Niles is kind of hurt that Connor won’t even let Niles know if he’s prostituting himself like this. It makes Niles feel sick. Too sick to eat the food, too sick to use the money. Too sick to look at Connor, most days.

Not eating also makes him sick, but Niles doesn’t care so much about that. He sits up, sighs, then walks to the kitchen cabinets, fumbling for his scotch. If he’s going to have to shit out some nonsense on the glory of child beauty pageants, he might as well be drunk.

Scotch in hand, he finally pulls his laptop out of the bag, plugging it into the wall and sinking back into the chair. He adjusts the ashtray in the center of the table, then fumbles in his coat pockets for his cigarettes. With one lit, he can finally get some work down. Maybe the tobacco will keep him awake enough to pull an all-nighter. Something falls out of his coat when he sets it back down, and he reaches for it, smiling a little when he sees Gavin’s USB. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he jams it into his laptop, and cranks the volume as high as it will go.

It takes a lot of effort, and Niles has to stand and do push up every hour or so to keep his limbs from falling asleep, but he finishes. Sends it to Markus just before eight. A weight is lifted from his shoulders. He, as a writer, is not proud of it. It’s not what he wants to be writing, but he’s too tired to care anymore. Maybe he can call out today, get some sleep. Or… he doesn’t have to be in until nine. Ten, if he skips lunch. 

Surely a little nap won’t hurt. If anything, it’ll help him, since he absolutely can’t afford coffee again until his next paycheck. He pulls his shirt off and kicks away his sneakers as he crosses to his room, leaning heavily against the door and placing his hand on the door knob.

Then, the front door creaks open and shut.

Niles whips around, facing Connor.

He’s leaned with his back against the door, clothes rumpled and shoulders covered by a coat Niles doesn’t recognize. His hair is matted in the back. Slept on. Niles steps away from his door despite the sleep pulling at his eyelids, his bed chanting his name, not bothering to hide the venom in his voice when he hisses, “Where the _fuck_ were you?”  
Connor blinks innocently, like he has no idea what Niles is angry about. “Ni, I-”

“Don’t lie to me. You don’t answer my texts, my calls. I left _four_ voicemails, Connor. Four.” Niles folds his arms. “I had no idea where you were, if you were safe or not. You could have been dead, and I wouldn’t have known. Where were you?”  
Sighing, Connor moves to the kitchen, standing on his toes to reach a smudged glass. “Niles, I’m an adult, and I’m older than you. Please don’t treat me like a child.” He lifts the tap above the sink, filling the glass with water. He chugs it. “And don’t stick your nose into my business.”  
“Wh- _your_ business?” Niles blinks, a stream of curses escaping his lips. “We live together. Your business is also _my_ business. Where were you?”  
“I don’t have to tell you everything.”

“No, you don’t. But, where were you?”

“That’s not-”

“Connor,” Niles frowns, arms folded. “You can’t keep secrets from me anymore. It’s not fair.”

Connor sets the glass onto the counter with a clink. “Life isn’t fair, Niles. Don’t ask me about this again.”

He moves past Niles towards his bedroom door, pushing it open with a tired sigh. Niles follows after him, watching as he collapses face first into the bed. With the light on, illuminating Connor’s form, Niles can see the mouth-shaped bruises lining his neck. “Where do you get your money from?”

Connor swallows hard, shifting against his blankets. “My job.”

“Connor, I’m not stupid. You definitely don’t make enough to afford that shit in there,” Niles waves out at the living room, meaning the fridge. “Who’s giving you money and how are you getting it?”  
“Niles, I-”

“Because if you don’t tell me where you were, or how you acquired so much cash, I’m going to keep thinking you’re a prostitute.”

Niles jumps back when Connor bolts upright, brown eyes glaring at Niles with a fire he hasn’t seen before. “I’m not a prostitute.”

“Then where were you last night?”

He watches as Connor clenches and unclenches his jaw, undoubtedly debating what to tell Niles. Eventually, he frowns. “Get out of my room.”

Niles doesn’t get the chance to sleep before going to work. When he lays down, Markus tells him to come in early. Niles can’t catch a fucking break. Over the week, work only gets worse. Niles’ article was sub-par, and they want him to research and write about whether or not millenials have ruined chain-food restaurants. Niles hates this, hates writing things that he doesn’t care about, but he needs the money. Needs to keep his job, keep Markus happy. He also needs to know where Connor disappears to at night, but Niles doesn’t have the energy to pry anymore.

Everyday he gets home from work, writes until four in the morning, crashes for three hours, wakes up and leaves right as Connor is getting back. He’s stopped asking about the money. Starts eating some of the food. Pride aside, Niles can’t afford to starve. Doesn’t have the time for it. It’s hard to stay awake most days, and every second Niles’ body itches for coffee. For anything to keep him awake besides scotch and tobacco. But, he can’t afford to keep getting coffee everyday, and, he doesn’t have time to go bother Gavin.

A month passes. Niles doesn’t eat all day, too focused on work, and the second his ass hits the chair when he gets home, he passes out.

He wakes up harshly, to the sound of a key being jammed into the door. Blinking, he starts to panic. It can’t already be time to go to work. He didn’t write  _ anything. _ Quickly, he grabs his phone from it’s spot on the floor, squinting at the cracked screen. It’s only ten o'clock in the evening. Thank god.

The door opens, and the room fills with laughter. Niles frowns, wondering why Connor is home  _ now _ and not in the morning, like he usually is. He sits upright, watching as Connor shuts the door behind him.

Then, Niles’ eyes land on the large man Connor brought into their apartment.

He’s old. Fifty, maybe. Long grey hair and beard unkempt and unruly, his patterned shirt untucked beneath his dark coat. Connor helps him out of it, and the old man’s eyes meet Niles’ and widen. “Uh, Con,” He warns, not looking away from Niles’ glare.

Connor turns, jumping a little. “Oh, Niles, hey! I thought you’d be asleep.” He pulls on the man’s arm, yanking him towards the couch. Niles looks up at them both, swearing that he’s still dreaming. No one beside them has ever been in their apartment before. “This is Niles, my baby brother.” He gestures, then pats the old man’s chest. “Niles, this is Hank.”

“Hey,” Hank sticks his hand out, but Niles ignores it, looking to Connor. 

He narrows his eyes. Patient, but angry.

Goading an explanation.

Connor sighs. “Um, Hank and I met at work. He’s a Lieutenant, head of the homicide division.” Still, Niles says nothing, upper lip curling. Connor, though anxious, still smiles pleasantly, tapping Hank’s chest again. “We’ve been dating for two months now.”

Hank smiles, too, awkwardly. Like he wants Niles to approve of him.

Niles drags his eyes over Hank’s body, his left eye twitching in quiet disgust. So, Connor  _ does _ have a sugar daddy. Niles was right. He eyes the watch on Hank’s wrist, then looks up at Connor’s new glasses. Then, turns, looking past the back of the couch at the pantry, filled to the brim with non-perishables. Connor clears his throat. “Yes, Niles.” Niles turns back, eyebrows raised. “When we first met, Hank gave me some cash so I wouldn’t starve. I hadn’t gotten paid yet, and you paid the rent, so we hadn’t eaten in days, and…”

He trails off, hand moving to rest in Hank’s open shirt, fingers trailing through grey hair. “He showed me kindness. Lent me some money.” He puts emphasis on the word  _ lent,  _  as if he has some intention of repaying him in something other than sex. Niles could puke.

Slowly, Niles stands. Walks to his room, shuts the door. Buries his face in his pillows and pretends not to hear Connor’s bed creaking through the night.

When he wakes up, the apartment smells like bacon. Cautiously, Niles leaves his room in his boxers. Hank is still here, seated at the dining table while Connor hums over the stove. He invites Niles over, and, hesitantly, Niles steps over to the table, sinking into the chair opposite Hank that holds his coat, perched in front of his closed laptop. Niles really  _ didn’t  _ write anything yesterday.  _ Fuck. _ Connor sets a plate in front him. Scrambled eggs, bacon, toast. Another in front of Hank. Then, one for himself, in between his brother and his  _ daddy. _ Niles is  _ not _ going to eat this food.

Hank and Connor eat in silence while Niles stares at the table, willing the chipped paint to just peel away. His eyes dart at the clock on the stove, though he knows it’s too early for work. Maybe if he stares hard enough time will move faster. It doesn’t. Connor sighs. “Niles, there’s actually something else I need to talk to you about.”

Niles glances up at Connor, then between him and Hank.  _ “Just  _ me?” He asks, trying to clarify, but also wanting to make Hank get the hell out of their space.

Connor shakes his head. “No, I…” He pauses, setting down his fork and reaching out to take Niles’ hand. Niles wants to retract, to pull away, singed by his touch, but he can’t move. His eyes dart to Hank, who smiles supportively. Looking at Connor, boring into his brown eyes, Niles wishes Connor could read his mind. That he could tell what Niles is thinking and just… not say what he’s about to say. What Niles knows is about to happen. He feels it in his soul, his heart breaking. Anger searing up his spinal cord, his thoughts  _ begging  _ Connor to just keep eating.

“Hank and I are getting married.”

_ Fuck. _

Niles swallows, hard. “What?”

Brown eyes leaves Niles to glance at Hank, and, regrettably, Niles can see the love in those eyes. It makes him sick. Makes him want to scream. To force Connor to stop feigning love. “He proposed to me last night, at his house. That’s why I brought him here. I wanted him to meet you.”

It takes a few minutes for Niles to figure out what he wants to say, and instead of saying them he stands, walking to his room and closing the door. He dresses quickly. Black joggers, and a plain t-shirt, a black jacket to match. He pulls socks over his toes, drumming them against the wood before opening the door again, plopping on the couch to pull on his sneakers. Connor stands from the table, chair creaking. “Niles, don’t leave.”

“I have to go to work, Connor.”

“No, Niles, we need to talk about this.”

“About  _ what?” _ Niles stands, whipping around and throwing his arms out in exasperation. He maneuvers around the couch as he talks, trying to get around Connor to get his coat and laptop. “The fact that you’re getting married to a man you’ve only known for two months, or that you didn’t even tell me he existed?”

Connor sputters, stepping aside to let Niles pass. Hank keeps his eyes trained on his now empty plate. Niles continues, jamming his arms into his coat. “Or, maybe you want to talk about how you disappear without telling me where you are or if you’re safe. Or, how about we talk about you fucking an old man for money?”

“Niles,” Connor warns, hand outstretched. “It’s not like that, really, I-”

“What? So he hasn’t been giving you money? You lied to me about that, too?”  
“Well, no, he-”

“God, just,” Niles shakes his head, shoving his laptop into it’s bag, the charger not far behind it. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, okay? I’m going to be late.” He’s not, not really. But, he just can’t be here. Can’t be around Connor. He doesn’t hear what Connor says to Hank as he walks out, ears practically blowing steam. 

Niles can hardly focus on work once he’s there, his mind wandering to his brother. And to the unanswered text waiting on his phone. Connor wants to meet him somewhere, so they can talk. After hours debating, Niles asks Connor to meet him at the coffee shop he likes. If Hank is buying Connor new glasses and food and… whatever else, he can buy Niles some fucking coffee.

He meets Connor outside, saddened when he sees that Hank is there, too, holding the door open for them. Niles is already dreading this. Once inside, Niles offers to get their drinks. He’s not about to wait for them to stare up at the large menu and… whatever else would prolong this stupid conversation. Hank gives him a twenty. Niles scoffs at his pretentiousness.

Approaching the counter, he folds his arms, already tired of being alive. He brightens a little when he sees Gavin, making his way to the register with a soft smile on his face. Smiles look nice on Gavin’s features. The scar on his nose draws attention away from the rest of his face, but his smile almost… forces you to look away from the scar and at who Gavin really is. Suddenly, it hits Niles that he hasn’t been back here in a month. Does Gavin even remember who he is? Is Niles just so pathetic and caught up with his writing that his lack of friends makes him put too much thought into his relationship with his goddamn barista?

Gavin’s smile doesn’t falter when he logs into the register. “Hey, Miles. Been a while.”

Slowly, Niles allows himself to smile, too. “It has. It’s good to see you, Gavin.”

Maybe that was a bit too much, because Gavin’s cheeks turn bright red and he looks down at his feet. It’s cute, and Niles wants to die again. “What can I do for you?”

Niles doesn’t really like the way he phrased that, but he ignores it. “Let me get a chamomile tea, a black coffee, a cold brew-”

“Two pumps of white mocha and cream?” Gavin finishes for him.

So, he remembers how Niles takes his coffee. Huh.

“Uh, yeah. And, a chocolate scone.” Gavin rings it up, and Niles pays with his card, pocketing Hank’s cash. No longer smiling, Niles heads over to the booth where Connor and Hank wait for him, inhaling and exhaling slowly to prepare himself. 

It takes a few minutes of awkward silence for Connor to finally say, “So, Ni. I need to know what you’re thinking.”

“What I’m thinking?” Niles echoes, whistling low. He drums his fingers against the tabletop. “I’m not thinking much, actually. Just anger and boiling rage.”

Connor frowns, trying to expand on that, but pausing as Gavin walks over with a tray of coffee and tea and a scone. It looks like he’s considering whether or not Gavin will care, before deciding to just continue the conversation anyway. “I’m not really sure why you’re so angry with me, Niles. I am an adult, and I am old enough to make my own decisions. You’re being dramatic.”

Niles folds his arms, watching Gavin set down Connor’s tea, then move for Niles’ cold brew. “I’m not being dramatic. I’m just- er, thanks, Gavin- I’m just upset. You should have told me what was going on. And no offense to you, Hank, I have no idea what your deal is, but, fuck. Connor, you’ve known him for two months. Two months. We  _ just _ got here. We can barely afford to do anything on our own and you’re still in school. It’s… you’re moving too fast.”

Hank grumbles a thanks to Gavin, and Niles can hear Gavin climb into the booth beside him. Cleaning to look busy, but undoubtedly eavesdropping. That little shit. Connor shakes his head. “I don’t think I am. I think I’m moving forward with my life, and you’re so hung up on writing non-stop and proving Amanda wrong that you won’t even consider the possibility that I could be happy with someone I’ve known for a short period of time.”

God damn psychology major. “No, I don’t care about Amanda. What I care about is  _ you _ marrying a stranger. You can’t logically believe you have a future with a man who’s paying to be with you.”

“Niles, it isn’t like that.” Connor frowns, flicking the rim of his mug with his fingernail, hearing the echo it elicits. “I think that you have always felt overshadowed by me. Jealous, even. Trying so hard to prove to Amanda that you can live on your own and be an adult and do things for yourself with no help. But, the truth is, Niles, no one can do that. Everyone has to ask for help sometimes. You’re too afraid, but I know how to admit when I’m not doing too great. You’re angry with me because I understand that not being able to afford food is a problem.”

“That’s not why I’m angry.”

“Then tell me why you’re angry.” Niles doesn’t say anything, so Connor continues. “Look. I love Hank.” He reaches over to run his hand down Hank’s forearm, smiling up at him with those stupid lovestruck eyes. “I’m going to finish school, find a better job based on my degree, and then I’m going to marry him. I’m very sorry that you don’t understand love like I do.”

One sentence makes Niles almost explode, and he grips the cushion of the booth by his thighs. He hears Gavin stop cleaning the table, listening. Hank sighs. “Niles. You seem like a reasonable kid,” Kid? Is he serious? “I know you don’t like me or whatever, but don’t take this out on Connor. He hasn’t done anything to upset you intentionally, and I think you should-”

“Fuck you.” 

Connor stiffens. “Niles, stop.”

“No, I just…” He points at Hank, hand trembling. “Don’t fucking talk to me like you know my brother better than I do, okay? You have no idea what we’ve been through. And, I  _ refuse _ to just sit here and let some old idiot like you convince my brother that he needs to marry his fucking sugar daddy to be happy.”

Without warning, Connor slides out of the booth, hands at his sides, nose turned up at Niles. “Okay, I can’t do this right now. I can’t talk to you while you act like this. Please, feel free to call me when you’re more open to discussion and can admit to your own thick skulled pessimism.” He pulls on Hank’s arm, dragging him out of the booth and guiding him out of the shop. The bell rings as they leave. Niles eyes their drinks, and the steam still rising from them. 

What a waste of time and money.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Gavin stares at the back of Niles’ head, his lips parted slightly. He isn’t really sure what just happened, but he knows that it definitely wasn’t good. Slowly, he looks around at the few other people seated around the first floor and up in the loft. He looks over at Tina, behind the counter. She tips her head towards Niles, and Gavin leaves his rag on the table, standing and moving to slide into the booth across from Niles.

The seat is still warm, despite the sudden lack of bodies.

Niles’ eyes are fixed firmly on his untouched cold brew. He hasn’t even taken out his reusable straw yet. Maybe he didn’t bring it today. “Hey,” Gavin tries to get his attention, but Niles keeps looking down, brow creased in anger. He’s lacking his usualy eyeliner today. His eyes seem brighter, despite his mood. “You okay?” Gavin tries asking, not sure if Niles even realizes that he’s there.

He must, because he shrugs. “Not really, no.”

“Family can be difficult sometimes.” Niles looks up, blue eyes meeting Gavin’s. His eyebrows say  _ continue, _ raising slightly in interest. Gavin sighs. “When I was twenty, I came out to my parents. They thought I was joking, but after I made it clear that I  _ wasn’t,  _ they asked me not to come home. I moved in with Tina and I haven’t spoken to them since.” Gavin doesn’t like telling people his business, but he feels like he needs to. Niles seems like he needs someone to talk to.

Niles laughs, a hollow sound. “When I came out, my mother responded: ‘God, not you, too.’” 

They both laugh, and Gavin watches Niles’ shoulders relax. Talking helps, Gavin knows that first hand. He watches Niles curiously, head tipped. “Do you need anyone to talk to? I didn’t mean to listen in, but I saw your brother leave with that guy.” Gavin isn’t sure what to call that guy. They’re getting married, but Niles called him a sugar daddy. ‘That guy’ seems like the right way to describe him. 

Sighing, Niles shrugs out of his coat, letting it fall onto the cushion of the booth. He reaches up to fiddle with the zipper on his jacket, pulling it slightly away from where it touches the base of his neck. “I mean… If you want to listen to me complain for a million years.” Gavin nods, trying to express that he does want to listen. Wants to know Niles. “How long is your break?”

“This is my store. My break is however long I fucking want.”

Niles talks a lot. Like, a lot more than Gavin was expecting. After so long of not getting more than a few words from him, it’s almost strange to see him speak this fervently. He uses his hands, and Gavin can’t help but smile at him. It’s alluring. Niles tells Gavin basically his entire life story. His parents driving their car off of a bridge when he was four, being sent to an orphanage. A woman named Amanda adopting him and Connor at the same time, not wanting to seperate them.

He complains mostly about Amanda blatantly favoring Connor. Praising him for everything he does, being nothing but supportive when he decided to study psychology. But, berating Niles for his writing. Telling him that he could do so much more if he set his mind to it. That Niles is bright, almost as bright as Connor. That makes Gavin a little angry. His parents favored his brother, too. He knows what it’s like to be overshadowed.

Luckily, Gavin doesn’t have to deal with that anymore.

But, Niles deals with it everyday. Connor making him feel like every part of the jealous little brother. Always fighting with him, loving him but not enjoying being around him for long periods of time. Getting angry at Connor for being hot. That’s… actually something that he says. Gavin is dumbfounded, but he’s met Connor, knows that Niles is infinitely prettier. Niles, however, is convinced that Connor got the good genes. He tells Gavin about how hard dating is for him, to find guys that interest him and like him back, while Connor, a rocking twink, can just spread his legs and bag himself a bear.

A sugar daddy.

A husband.

“It’s really not fair. My entire life, it’s been all about Connor. I moved here with him so he could be closer to his school. I keep my shitty job so I can pay the rent for us to stay close to his school, and what does he do to repay me? Fuck an old man and not tell me about it.” Niles exhales, leaning his head back against the leather cushion, his eyes fluttering closed. “Sometimes it’s exhausting to know him.”

Gavin nods, absorbing this. He doesn’t relate entirely to how Niles is acting, but he can understand it. He’s hurt. Slowly, Gavin asks a question that rests on his tongue for the whole hour Niles rants. “So, how do you feel about him marrying Hank?”

“Angry.” Niles doesn’t open his eyes, runs his hands down the sides of his face. Gavin pushes the uneaten scone away from him. The plate is cold now. “And… jealous, I guess. Lonely. I don’t know, I think I’ve been saying things that make him sound bad, but… Connor’s a good person. I think I’m just upset that he found someone to marry before I did.” Gavin’s eyes widen, starting to understand Niles’ thought process. “Like, everything he does, he does before I do, so it makes it seem like I’m copying him. Amanda thought for the longest time that I wasn’t  _ really  _ gay, I just wanted to be like him.

“Now, he’s happy, apparently. Like, actually happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been  _ truly _ happy in my entire life. And, maybe it’s my own fault.” Niles sits up, his face worried. Gavin is filled with the sudden urge to reach out and hold him, tell him he’s good. “Maybe… maybe I keep forcing myself to be sad. I focus so much on my own misery that I don’t allow myself to be happy. And now that Connor is happy, I just feel…” He trails off, eyes traveling over Gavin’s face, looking for some kind of answer. Something Gavin doesn’t even know how to say. 

“Empty.”

Gavin can tell that there’s something Niles wants him to say, but he has no idea what. So, he thinks closely about how Niles smells, and offers a solution. “Do you need to smoke?”

“What?”  
“You, uh,” Gavin’s face heats, realizing what he’s about to say might sound creepy. “It’s just that you kind of smell like cigarettes. They help me out when I get upset or want to feel something.”

Niles watches Gavin, mouth pressed into a thin line. Gavin wishes he read minds. “Yeah. Yeah, actually, that would be great.”  
Smiling, Gavin stands, moving to grab the tray from the next booth and piling on the old scone, the untouched drinks. He wipes the table off, nodding for Niles to follow him as he walks the tray behind the counter. When Niles approaches, his coat is flung over one of his arms. He doesn’t have his laptop, today.

Tina smirks at him when he tells her that he’s going to leave her in charge of the shop for a few minutes, muttering something that Gavin chooses not to hear. He moves to the back room after dropping the dishes in the sink, waving at Niles to follow him.

Hesitantly, after looking between Gavin and Tina, Niles follows, shutting the door behind him. “What are we-”  
“My pack is in here. If we’re gonna smoke we probably need cigarettes, right?” Gavin smiles, pointing at the large desk on the side wall, across from shelves stacked with boxes and crates. “They’re just in my jacket, hang on.” Niles sets his coat on the chair while Gavin fishes around in the pockets of his leather jacket. It jingles as he searches, echoing slightly in the small room. “Here we go,” Gavin grips the cigarette pack and holds it out for Niles to take. Briefly, their hands graze. Niles’ fingers feel cold. 

Gavin locates the lighter next, feeling the weight of it in his hand, but freezing when he hears Niles set the pack down on the table. He straightens, turning to face Niles.

Who is, now, very close.

“You okay?” Gavin asks, shrinking against the desk.

Niles watches him, lips parted slightly. “Yes, just…” He pauses, taking another step forward. “Sad,” Another step. “And lonely.” Gavin watches him, too, brows knit together. What is he doing? Haven’t they already talked about this? Gavin thought they were going to-

Niles presses his lips to Gavin’s, and the lighter clatters to the floor.

Gavin, surprised, closes his eyes and melts forward, reaching his hands out to clutch Niles’ jacket. Niles’ hands respond, one moving to rest on Gavin’s hip while the other finds Gavin’s chin. His thumb tilts Gavin’s head upwards, fixing their angle. Gavin’s lips part instinctively, letting Niles’ tongue past his teeth, running slow circles on the roof of his mouth. It’s been a while since Gavin has kissed anyone, and he can’t tell if he’s doing a good job or not. 

He must be, because Niles moans into his open mouth, and blood rushes to Gavin’s legs. He feels like jelly, melting and malleable, completely at Niles’ mercy. Like Niles could destroy him with one simple touch. Niles pulls back first, breathless and gasping. Gavin’s breathing is worse, somehow. They watch each other, catching their breaths. That short second of wondering what they do next, where they go from here. Do they keep making out? Do they go smoke, like they planned? 

Gavin lets his gaze wander, tracing the lines of Niles’ shoulders, the patterns on the breast of his jacket. Then even lower south, to his legs, his pants. His joggers hang loosely around his hips, sagging so the band of his boxers is just barely visible. The sweatpants are loose, but Gavin can make out the outline of his cock. Despite the loose fabric, it seems to be a decent size. Gavin clenches his jaw when he realizes Niles is hard, and that makes him nervous. Excited, happy, sure. But nervous. What happens next? Can he tell that Gavin is hard, too?

He can’t ponder that question long, because Niles’ hand is on Gavin’s chest, pushing him backwards. Gavin’s ass collides with the wood of the desk, and Niles kicks the chair away with his foot. Then, he reaches up to tug at the zipper on his jacket, slowly pulling it undone. Gavin watches the movement, his heart pounding as Niles drops the jacket to the floor, leaving him in a grey t-shirt. His arms are pale, lanky, thin. A few dark moles here and there, and Gavin spends so long staring at each individual one that he doesn’t even jump when Niles dips his head to kiss Gavin’s neck.

Suddenly, Gavin becomes hyper-aware of the buttons clinking on his apron, so he moves his hands to untie it. It’s difficult to get off, he keeps getting distracted, especially when he can feel Niles’ tongue licking a stripe up the length of his neck, but he manages, throwing it somewhere on the other side of the room. It jingles when it hits the wood floor, and the sound echoes.

Gavin realizes then, that the echo could be a problem here. He doesn’t even know how much sound he’s been making, too focused on Niles to think about anything else. He’s at work, still. In the room where he and Tina do inventory. Leaned against the desk where he and Tina pay bills and fill out paperwork. He forgot all of that, and now, he figures they shouldn’t be in here. Shouldn’t be doing this. But, if they shouldn’t, then why doesn’t Gavin care when Niles kisses him again, wasting no time sticking his tongue back in Gavin’s mouth?

Why doesn’t Gavin care about the shop, still open, customers still sitting, Tina still working? Why doesn’t he care about the room’s echo, or whether or not the walls are soundproof?

Gavin decides that none of that matters when Niles starts to undo his belt.

He leans back, hands resting on the desk as he watches Niles work at the buckle, raising his knee to push against the crotch of Gavin’s now tented jeans. Niles has long, slender fingers. Deft hands, experienced in working quickly after years and years of writing. The buckle dealt with, Niles moves to the zipper, making Gavin whine.

Without warning, Niles’ cold hand suddenly presses against Gavin’s mouth, muffling his sound. “It echoes in here.” Gavin doesn’t care, not really, but he nods, understanding. They should probably keep quiet.

The hand returns to the zipper, and Gavin suppresses a gasp when cold fingers find his warm cock. His hands scrape at the wood desk as Niles pulls Gavin free from his boxers, one hand resting around the shaft while the other hand strokes Gavin’s thigh. It’s nice. It’s been a while since Gavin kissed someone, let alone have a hand other than his own touching him. Warmth fills his chest as Niles kisses him again, lighter this time, as if asking Gavin how far he wants to go.

It’s sweet. Considerate, even. Gavin sits back on the desk, pulling his legs off of the floor and reaching over to his jacket, pulling it a little closer to him. “I have condoms,” He says, hoping that’s what Niles meant. 

It was. 

Niles kisses him again, rougher. Their teeth clink, and Gavin gasps fully when Niles gives him a few firm pumps, then pulls away. He releases Gavin, then reaches up to... to lick his own fingers. Gavin watches, mouth agape as Niles sucks on his own hand, drenching his fingers in spit. Gavin’s hand moves to his own dick, stroking himself slowly. It’s a strange thing to watch, but it’s so, so hot. 

Releasing the fingers to kiss Gavin’s neck again, Niles uses his dry hand to push on Gavin’s shoulder, moving him forward? No, backwards. Gavin’s heart thuds loudly, letting Niles turn him over so his chest is pressed against the cool wood. He lets his cheek touch, feeling the chill. It feels nice, considering how flushed and sweaty the rest of him is. Gavin can hear that Niles is still wetting his fingers, and he helps Niles’ free hand pull his jeans down, exposing his bare ass to the warm room. 

Part of Gavin feels embarrassed, but the rest feels comfortable. Like Niles is going to take care of him.

He doesn’t get any warning when Niles slides his hand against Gavin’s ass, and Gavin has to bite down against his palm to keep from groaning when Niles slides a finger inside of him. He’s tight, out of practice, he knows he is, and he can tell that Niles is starting to get impatient. Gavin wishes he could reach Niles’ cock from this angle, but his hand stays against his mouth while the other holds onto the corner of the desk. Niles adds another finger, Gavin bites harder. It’s hard to stay quiet, and he understands what Niles was getting at earlier, the echo is way louder against the wall where the desk is. Perfect.

Every other time Gavin has had sex, he’s been loud. He hopes he can stay quiet.

A third finger, and Gavin starts to get upset that he has to bite his hand, unable to reach down and touch himself. He needs to, wants to, but waits. Hopefully, Niles will handle that part for him. When the fingers disappear, Gavin whines again, shifting to look over his shoulder as Niles pats Gavin’s jacket. “My wallet,” Gavin whispers, muffled against his palm.

Niles manages to find it, retrieve a condom. Gavin watches as he moves the waistband of his joggers to expose himself, Gavin’s drool starting to coat the table and his cheek. It feels like an eternity passes as Gavin waits for him to roll the condom on, his whole body suddenly feeling empty without Niles’ fingers.

The eternity ends, and suddenly Niles is pushing inside of him. Gavin’s hand tastes salty, bitter. He’s biting it again, chasing away the growing moans as Niles gets deeper, Gavin gets fuller. His hips meet Gavin’s ass, and Gavin pulls his hand away to lick drool from his chin. Slow, shallow thrusts quickly become faster, Niles pushing in and out, and Gavin doesn’t even realize that he’s starting to moan openly, little sounds escaping past his teeth as Niles fucks up into him.

He puts his hand back, biting the skin, but it doesn’t help as Niles gets faster, more desperate. Setting a rough rhythm, Gavin’s cock mashing against the table with each thrust. Niles’ hand joins Gavin’s over his mouth, and suddenly Gavin can smell him again. Cigarettes, pine, coffee. His other hand moves to Gavin’s dick, and Gavin winces at the cold brought by Niles’ spit. He pulls, and Gavin clenches his jaw, praying to whoever that Tina absolutely  _ does not walk in right now. _

Questions start to creep into Gavin’s brain. Things like, where do things go from here? What does this mean for them? Niles hits his prostate for the first time, and Gavin’s entire body shudders, it’s been a  _ long _ time since he’s felt  _ that. _ Niles leans forward, whispering sweet things in Gavin’s ear. Things like _ “You feel so good, Gavin,”  _ and,  _ “You take my cock so well,” _

More questions as Niles’ hand on Gavin’s dick speeds up. What does Gavin tell Tina after this? What does he tell Niles after this? Is this just a distraction for Niles? Something to make him feel better after fighting with his brother? Pressure builds in Gavin’s stomach, orgasm approaching. Does Niles genuinely like Gavin? Gavin likes Niles. This is wonderful, he decides, hand pulling away so he can groan as he finishes into Niles’ palm. This is wonderful.

Niles isn’t far behind, and as Gavin calms down a bit, Niles still pounding into him, he wonders what happens next. It’s almost too much, the feeling of Niles continuing to thrust into him, his body feeling too tired to move. He doesn’t bother wiping drool from his mouth anymore, craning his neck over his shoulder to watch Niles’ face as he finishes, too, collapsing forward onto Gavin with heavy, panting breaths.

Niles pulls out, and Gavin rolls over on the desk while he removes the condom, tying it off, dropping it in the waste bin. He wipes his hand on Gavin’s boxers, ridding himself of Gavin’s cum, then helps Gavin pulls his pants back on in silence. They steady their breathing, both still panting and flushed. Niles buckles Gavin’s belt, tucks himself back into his joggers.

Blue eyes watch Gavin closely, and Gavin doesn’t really know what to say.

Luckily, Niles exhales, speaking first. “Still want to smoke? God knows I fucking need to.” Gavin snorts, then nods, leaning down to pick up his lighter. They don’t bother pulling on their jackets as they step outside, letting the cold, snowy air get rid of any left over sweat. Gavin pulls out a cigarette, lights it, hands it Niles, then lights one for himself. 

After a second, Niles’ hand moves to rub his bare arms. Cold.

They stare at the brick wall of the coffee shop in silence, and Gavin wonders what to say. He can’t form words. Whether it’s because of the cold or because Gavin is shocked by what they just did, he has no idea.

Niles crushes his cigarette butt against the pavement with his foot, and looks down at Gavin, squinting through the lingering smoke. “Let me get your number, Gavin.” 

Gavin’s heart rate spikes again. “What?”

“Ugh, give me your phone.” Gavin fumbles for it, hands it to him. Niles types quickly, then shoves it back into his hands. “There, now you can call me whenever.” 

“Call you?” Gavin furrows his brow. “Why would-”

“I mean, I was hoping we could do this again sometime. Maybe in a bed.” Niles shrugs. “At the very least, get dinner or something.”

Gavin blinks. “You… you like me?”

“Obviously.” Niles looks back at the wall, and Gavin doesn’t know what to say again. He wants to gush, to tell Niles how wonderful he is, how hot and nice and perfect. But, he stays quiet, not wanting to scare him off. Niles looks down at Gavin, a smile on his face, dimples prominent. “I think I understand, now. Falling for someone quickly. Maybe I was too harsh on Connor.” He winks. “I like you a lot, Gavin.”

They stay outside until it’s well past seven, the shop closed for a while. Niles’ nose starts to run, so Gavin tells him to go home. When he leaves, he promises to make amends with his brother, and asks Gavin to promise he’ll at least send a text.

When Gavin gets back inside, Tina calls him a slut.

But, Gavin doesn’t care. He doesn’t care because his phone has a new contact.  _ Miles. _ An inside joke. Gavin can’t really believe that he has an inside joke with someone who genuinely likes him.

With someone who wants to see Gavin again, just as much as Gavin wants to see him.


End file.
